Fist of the Empire
by Dance Boheme
Summary: Shortly after Command Decision, Admiral Thrawn, Commander Parck and Captain Niriz discover a new regal world named Raza, and are drawn into a political struggle of beauty and intrigue.
1. Chapter 1

_**This is a story set shortly after Command Decision, and features Commander Parck, Captain Niriz and Admiral Thrawn. I've always felt they haven't had enough written about their adventures, so I thought I'd make up own of my own!**_

The dull looking planet of Raza held many a glittering jewel upon its surface of raging seas and crowded jungles. The Emperor's capital city of Preeya was currently in the process of welcoming its newest guests, the starship Admonitor and her crew.

The higher ranking officers had been granted chambers within the palace, and free roam domain to roam her sprawling walls. Commander Voss Parck happened to be one of these officers, and whilst he was pleased with the pleasantries given to him by the Emperor, the gulf between riches and poor on this world gave him the slightest ill feeling that all was not as good as it seemed on the surface.

He looked out of the balcony that adjoined his room, the views were simply breathtaking, and it amazed him how close the palace's golden and ivory walls were to the jungle, and how the horticulturists had bore this in mind when designing the labyrinthine gardens with their oversized magnificent plants.

Sighing, he placed down his spiced melange drink that had been delivered to him by a nervous looking attendant with an equally as rattled looking tray. Currently, he was unaware of the Admiral's intentions regarding Raza, but then no one was ever sure of Admiral Thrawn's intentions, as Captain Niriz had only been made well aware of a few weeks earlier with Operation Command Decision, a little joke as it were testing his loyalties to not only Admiral Thrawn, but himself.

The welcoming from Raza and its Emperor Sitkh III had been most pleasant, and certainly a breath of fresh air as far as welcoming from outside planets was concerned. The only slight annoyance Parck had found was the language barrier. Of course, Admiral Thrawn had encountered minimal problems, his Sy Bisti had acted as an intermediary, and was perfectly formed, each syllable pronounced as if it were his own tongue. Unfortunately for Commander Parck and even Captain Niriz, things had been a lot harder, with emphasised hand actions taking over when something important needed to be dealt with.

Emperor Sitkh III on noticing this small error of ways had apologised to Admiral Thrawn most vehemently, even assigning his eldest daughter General Maedi to teach both Parck and Niriz of Raza's militarial ways, but so far, Voss couldn't help but feel the frustration that emanated from the young woman as both the Captain and himself looked on at her like lost banthas in a marketplace. She had tried many different methods, from the hands on approach of leading them and showing them technologies they had never heard of, and most lately, handing them children's illustrated novels, a ruse of hers after Captain Niriz had ruffled her feathers, after storming off in an irritated fashion after meeting the Emperor's prize horses. Niriz had never been much of an animal man, Voss laughed.

Voss shook his head and walked into the main bedchambers of his spacious quarters. Fumbling, he grabbed a towel and walked into the gold plated monstrosity that was his bathroom.

_Delightfully flamboyant. _

He smiled to himself as he placed his towel on a rail carved to mimic a dragon's claw. Everything in Raza, he mused, was a display of wealth. Whether it was the meek farmer displaying his prize totlee cattle in a small pen, or the Emperor gilding his bathrooms in gold, Raza was very much the human world, and the humans of this world were no different to those in the Core Galaxy under the Empire's rule. Should Raza agree to be part of the Empire, they, the citizens, would find no trouble in fitting in.

Twisting the taps of the bath, Voss was amused to find out that today's water had been perfumed less harshly. The day before when he had bathed, the minty essence had caused his eyes to water for half an hour afterwards, and the redness had been very much the same to the Admirals, he had joked.

Stripping, he quickly plunged himself in the hot water, gasping loudly when he found that he had perhaps let the hot water run on for too long. They had only been on Raza's surface for 3 standard Razaiin days, and already Voss found himself accustomed to the luxury of bathing in real water. On the Admonitor, showers were the only form of bathing, even for officers, in an effort to conserve the water. Here on Raza, Voss bathed in deep, hot and bubble filled perfumed baths. Niriz too it seemed, did the same, for he always smelt of the same essence. Admiral Thrawn it seemed, was the only person to still have the self discipline to use the old showering system, a marker perhaps of his military ways, Voss had always thought.

Tonight they had been told that all officers on the ship were to enjoy a feast and show of culture, something most officers had been looking forward to, at least, the ones who had understood Sy Bisti. Voss was annoyed that he hadn't paid more attention to learning the language in his schooling days, as the Razaii people were fascinating, quite simply and extraordinarily different.

They were human, that much was evident. Some of the richer members of court had the telltale signs of spice indulgence, the orange coated eyes with broken capillaries striking the appearance immediately; nonetheless however, they were ultimately human. Curiously enough, they were the only humans it seemed, in the entire Galaxy who did not speak Basic. Voss had thought about this at great length, coming up with theories that perhaps aeons ago Razaii ancestors had been placed on this jungle planet as some form of exile, but instead of dying had flourished and built a community, the language evolving with the times. That was his best musing on the subject, he had no doubts that tonight's extravagance would shed some light on the subject for Thrawn, who he suspected, possibly already knew the real reason these humans did not speak Basic. Or if they were just deceptively looking near humans, with their outward appearance being identical. Now however, was a time for preening, not thoughts. Voss was a high ranking officer, and as such, was expected to uphold the Empire in not only his work, but outward appearance to the new species they encountered on their quest in the Unknown Regions.

Tonight would be the pinnacle of their stay here on Raza, but the officer's of the Admonitor were blissfully unaware of the situation they would soon come to face.

All that is, but one.


	2. Chapter 2

Spiced dishes of meat and fruit were placed before the men, artistically carved to portray flowers and garden scenes. Captain Niriz smiled as a lovely looking girl served him some spiced wine.

_This is the life of the Coruscanti elite._

He could get used to this if Admiral Thrawn wasn't careful, the food was to die for, and the girls were all strapping young things. He had a feeling as well that he wasn't the only man to think that, all the officers he could see had smiles stretching from ear to ear, and only Admiral Thrawn kept on the same neutral face, an impenetrable barrier that no one dared to knock down.

Emperor Sitkh III entered the main dining hall adorned with precious stones and a flowing cape that twinkled in the overhead candlelight. Carefully, he placed himself on the soft round cushion at his table, sitting cross legged, as everyone else was. A small musical number in the traditional Raziaan style played, two pipes gilded from the best copper and brass available, a set of small drums, and a man who wailed in the Raziaan style like a bird of song.

Dagon Niriz sneered, he didn't care for this sort of music, he didn't actually care for much music, truth be told. The man's incessant attempt at singing was grating, to say the least. Picking at the leg of meat left in front of him, Dagon's eyes couldn't help but meander to the left of the musical piece, where five girls in what could only be described as scraps of material were dancing. He noted that several of the younger officers seemed enthralled by this, and others such as Commander Parck were trying their very utmost best to not look in that general area. Niriz chortled to himself as the Commander stared in a fixated fashion at the plate that was put in front of him.

_If you can't beat them…_

Dagon smiled to himself enjoying the view. He wished more of their adventures were like this, stress free and indulgent. Their last mission had ended up with near mutiny. Now however that had been sorted, one trip to Coruscant and a court martial later, and everything was blissful on the Admonitor.

"You really ought to join in you know Voss." Niriz sucked on a haheesh pipe, a traditional bubbling Razaii funnel with clouded water, spiced with the smallest essence of melange. "This planet really knows how to treat its guests, and the view is splendid."

Commander Parck laughed, "Dagon, I am an upstanding member of society. If I appear too human, the other officers might think…"

"That you're human after all?"

The two men laughed and clinked their heavy copper goblets together, full to the brim of an alcoholic substance that's name remained unknown to the both of them, but that's taste was well known by now to nearly all the crew members.

At the head of the table, Admiral Thrawn conversed with Emperor Sitkh III in Sy Bisti, the trade language of the Outer Rim. Neither Parck nor Niriz knew what was being said, other than it seemed serious. Both men's voices were low and baritone, a marker of the seriousness of the subject in hand. At varying times in the conversation, Emperor Sitkh III raised his hand in defiance, promptly slamming it on the table, causing varying bits of cutlery to rise a few centimetres in the air before landing in a different position on the table again.

"I don't know what's going on between those two, but it certainly looks like something we're bound to be made aware of."

Niriz eyed the Admiral as he said this, and then turned to watch Parck nod in agreement, before chiming in.

"You're right. There's something not at ease in this atmosphere… It's as if underneath this regal atmosphere, there's a horrible truth waiting to bite on the bait."

Niriz's eyed widened. "And we're that bait?"

Parck nodded vehemently. "I do believe we are that bait."

Niriz placed his goblet down earnestly, forgetting the dancing girls and haheesh pipe almost instantaneously.

"Voss, if we are that bait, what is the Admiral doing letting us stay here?"

Voss smiled an inane grin and turned to meet Dagon's puzzled face.

"Have you still not learnt your lesson Dagon?" His grin widened, "We're not sure that we are bait yet, this is pure speculation. You know the Admiral, he'll keep his cards close to his chest, and we'll wonder what on Corulag is happening until the curtain comes down…"

Niriz laughed, remembering that fate filled moment when Parck had told him the Admiral had rejected his resignation. It was that moment that had filled him with admiration, loyalty and awe- the Admiral was going to find it most hard to get rid of him now, he was going to make that a certain factor.

The two men watched the Admiral and the Emperor for some time, occasionally bringing up new speculation as to what was happening.

The night grew darker and purple as attendants snuffed a few choice candles ready for the main spectacle of the feast. The Emperor had arranged for a traditional melodramatic opera to be performed for Admiral Thrawn on hearing that he enjoyed culture and class and wished to sample whatever Raza and its people had to offer. The Emperor, being a proud man had only wanted to oblige this request, and this no expense spared spectacle was the most talked about topic in the city of Preeya.

The officers had stopped eating hours ago, and sweet dishes were being placed on the table in front of them. Many Raza elite gentlemen had unbuckled the tops of their trousers allowing for more room, but neither Niriz nor Parck wished to join in with this, no matter how foreign and alien they felt on this planet.

More candles were dimmed, and the flutes began softly playing as the opera started and the voices hushed themselves.

Emperor Sitkh III was going to prove in every way, shape and form, that just because you were an Outer Rim planet, it didn't mean you were uncultured.

He was going to try anything to prove his visitors he was right. Anything.


	3. Chapter 3

_I dedicate this chapter to "shann1", as she has not read Command Decision yet, and still continues to check up on new chapters of this story, and as a fellow Thrawnite, she deserves this as the very smallest token of appreciation._

_I hope shann, that you enjoy the rest of the story!!!_

Cacophonous singing blared from an overly rotund woman dressed in draping satins of all the colours a mans eye could see. The officers looked on in awe, and even a little disgust at her larger than life presence. Niriz chortled gently into his drink, thinking to himself that surely even this would be trying to the Admiral, even Commander Parck looked on in disbelief at this sheer atrocity.

The actors faces were painted in a matte type effect of white, with bright red lips and dark accentuated eyes. It was to be noted that the evil characters often had painted on tattoos, whilst the characters who were seen as demure and innocent, wore less makeup giving a dewy eyed appearance. Parck noted that the Admiral no doubt was getting some key factors about Raziaan life from this, and he wondered how the Admiral kept his straight faced appearance when faced with this monstrosity of an opera.

"She really is something, isn't she?"

Niriz jabbed Parck in the ribs, his drunken state at this point forgetting that such things hurt the sober.

"Larger than life in fact!"

Niriz chortled at his own joke as Parck rolled his eyes, such things were not becoming for an officer, and Niriz had already offended the Emperor's eldest daughter once, he would hate for Niriz to make a second offence out of sheer stupidity and lack of self control when presented with a feast and alcohol.

He looked around the room, his gaze stopping at the Emperor's eldest daughter, General Maedi. Currently, she was having what seemed to be a heated debate with a fellow officer who Voss guessed to be of a higher rank than her, as he had several medals adorning the left side of his chest.

She wasn't as beautiful as the rest of the Emperor's daughters, but she certainly had a way about her that was enticing. Voss sighed, louder than he would have liked to have done. He'd been away from a normal life for so long, and though he was loathe to admit it, the simplest things were leaving him hot blooded, his thought processes turning decrepit and not what he deemed to be proper.

"Something wrong?"

Niriz talked inbetween mouthfuls of a sweet water gaping fruit, his breath tinged heavily with the alcohol he had been drinking.

Voss looked at Niriz and his degrading state and laughed. "No, I'm just growing tiresome. Sleep has never been so enticing."

Niriz laughed in a raucous way, jabbing Voss further in the chest with his elbow.

_He's going to really regret tonight if he's not careful_, Voss deliberated. _In fact, it's a marvel if he remembers anything to regret!_

The opera finished, the actors lined up ready and waiting for their applause. Voss feigned delight and put on a smile that didn't quite meet his eyes. Admiral Thrawn clapped in a manner that suggested he had thoroughly enjoyed the shambles of a performance, which Voss had chastised himself over- a difference of cultures was to blame here, not appalling acting, whatever he may have thought about the standards of the performance, or lack thereof.

By now it was late, the hours creeping up towards a new rising day, and all were happy to be sent to their quarters, especially Dagon Niriz.

Attempting to dampen his footsteps, he took the approach of sliding his feet gently on the slippery floor of merging marbles. Precision was the key here, and at this moment in time, it wasn't one of Dagon's strong points.

_I'm an officer in the Imperial Navy! Lead by example, that's what I say!_

No matter how hard he tried to formulate a thought process of moving quietly and unheard, this thought kept rumbling around the innards of his brain. There had to have been something in that pipe, he kept telling himself. He couldn't honestly remember how much he had had to drink, other than what was available to him had been of a very good quality. In fact, he thought, it had been such a long time that he had last had alcohol, that even a glass would leave him in rags. That however was no excuse, and even now in the state he was in, he was thinking of severe punishments for himself.

Fumbling down the dimly lit corridor, Niriz held firmly onto the small pieces of golden railing that he could, until finally he arrived at the double doors that greeted him as his bedroom for his stay on the planet. Opening the doors was a feat trickier than finding them, with attendants blithering around him making sure he was on his feet. With them out of the way, he fell asleep in a rather undignified fashion on top of his bed, with his clothing still on.

Voss' predictions had been very accurate, Dagon Niriz really would regret this night for a very long time to come. However, as right as Voss' prediction was, no one would ever have guessed at this point that Dagon's condition wasn't entirely his fault.

There was foul play at hand, and Dagon Niriz would soon turn into "bait" with his fellow officers, including Commander Parck if he wasn't careful.

In a darkened room at the end of the east tower, a pair of eyes glowed in delight at the night' events, and the doors of possibility that had been opened through this new wealth of knowledge of a culture that could be so profitable to the Empire, and who in return, would profit from the Empire beyond their wildest imaginations. All that was needed, was a firm stamping out of the guerrilla's, a slight problem the eyes had noticed during their stay.

If the Imperial Navy however, could deal with the Rebel Alliance, this mission would be akin to pest control.


	4. Chapter 4

_Well, a new chapter and some revelations coming to light! I sincerely want to thank everyone who has reviewed this story, because it really does spur me on to write faster! So for that, I thank you, and dedicate this chapter to all of you, and hope it does you justice!!!_

An almighty headache greeted Dagon Niriz from his heavy slumber as the morning sun sneered at him through flimsy cotton like curtains. He groaned and rubbed his eyes.

Something awful had happened last night, and he couldn't remember exactly what it was that had happened. He sat up, squinting harshly as the sunlight peeped through a hole in the curtains, bitterly thinking that perhaps he didn't really want to know what had happened that fatal night before.

He noted that he was still in his uniform, and that this occurrence happening was highly unusual. Even his boots were still on, scuffed slightly at the sides to suggest he'd been walking in a flat footed manner, or perhaps just shuffling.

He prayed that none of his immediately inferior officers remembered anything incriminating, and peeled off his jacket, sticky in his own sweat and smelling of that foul haheesh pipe aftertaste.

A bath full of essences and a good scrubbing later, and Dagon Niriz almost felt ready to brave the world. He put on a cleanly pressed uniform hanging in a dress bag, and scrubbed his boots neatly and with love. They would need resoling, but this was a relatively inexpensive thing that didn't need immediate attention.

He made his bed to Imperial standards, the corners wedged and angular, and cleaned what little mess he had made in the bathroom, and set off on his way to find Commander Parck, hoping that the Commander would be kind and not embarrass him too much with sordid details.

The Commander was proving to be infuriatingly hard to locate, and was not in either the briefing room or the Emperor's waiting room. Niriz snarled his teeth in annoyance and stormed down the labyrinthine corridors in a quick military pace, angered that he could not find his friend in any of the rooms.

Voss Parck had always followed orders, no matter how odd they seemed to him sometimes. He never argued with the Admiral, they were something of friends, if the Admiral ever had any. On strictest orders, he had been told to rest and explore the capital city of Preeya for culture purposes. This indeed was a very strange request from even an old friend, but Voss was too shocked with the order to argue.

He shuddered as he sat in a small café, the stillness of the people surrounding him was stark and scary. Small children stopped playing as they saw his obvious uniform, and retreated to the dark corridors that held many a sordid secret.

He didn't particularly understand why he had been asked to spend his relaxation time in Preeya, other than knowing Admiral Thrawn, this was more than what it seemed at first glance. He sipped on his sour stimcaf, or what he had thought was stimcaf when he had ordered it.

This was somehow worse than stimcaf, a product of which science had refused to acknowledge as a foodstuff, quoting that if a being were to eat more than five spoonfuls, he or she would face serious consequences come the morning after.

He chuckled as he remembered this, and how his mother had refused it in their household, causing much distress to him as a younger man. He thought of Corulag, of the masses of bamboo forests that entwined themselves richly with urban life. Jungle life here was so different, the plants were titanic and green, oversized lichens and sprawling mosses that boasted in a declamatory fashion that no man or animal could undo their mean feat of surviving and growing to such an extent.

He had finished his stimcaf by now, and shook his cup slightly to betray small hiding roasted beans that gave the drink its foul tasting flavour. Well, his mother had always told him that whatever tasted bad, could only do him good. He laughed quietly remembering what she had told him before he had joined the Navy, so long ago as the Clone Wars had first started out. He missed her, it was true, but his job did good, a greater good for the Empire, and Admiral Thrawn would lead all his men to glory, Voss was entirely sure of that.

Looking around, he noticed a common factor in the young men of the city. A pendant shaped like what seemed to be a crude omega symbol with a line through it dangled from their necks. He wondered if it had some meaning, or if it was one of those things the young had taken to, as was so often the case where the young and fashion were concerned.

Most of the men were no older than 26 he reckoned, and it was probably a high symbol of fashion geared towards the women. He snorted, remembering those days all too well when he himself had resorted to the same lifestyle, and the ridiculous clothes he had resorted to wearing in order to catch a young lady's attention. He inspected their dress code a little more in depth, his analysis causing him to jump to conclusions, that perhaps this was a gang of miscreant youths. He smiled again, that was a rash conclusion and he didn't have the proper supporting evidence, it was best to leave his paranoia to himself.

Swilling his cup around again, he looked off into the far distance where more young men appeared. It was an oddity that they came in such strengths, with their dusty tatters of clothing dragged along the floor, and their leathery sandals cracked from overuse and exposure to sunlight.

There were no girls to be seen in the street. Parck's curiousity peaked; this was certainly not of the norm. He had always thought of girls as being somewhat like songbirds, they strutted in front of the boys in order to gain attention to themselves. Their makeup and fashionable clothes compensating for brightly coloured plumes, and their teasing laughter substituting sweet lullaby music sung by the avian.

If there were neither girls nor women to be seen on the street, what significance did these strange symbols hold? Was it really enough however, for Parck to incriminate these men in front of the Admiral, or was he just overplaying on paranoid senses spurred on by an alien environment?

He stood up and pushed his chair away from him and briskly walked back to the palace to find his friend and confidante Dagon Niriz. He prayed that Dagon would believe him and trust his instincts that foul play was somehow afoot, and these young men almost certainly had something to do with it. He hoped also, that after Dagon's condition towards the end of the night, that he had remembered the small conversation they had had about "baiting", and that this would somehow evidence his paranoia that rumbled and rattled around his brain matter like a ship caught in a storm.

Silent footsteps padded barefoot behind the Commander, watching his every move. A pendant dangled from a sun scarred neck, thumping it with every step.

A hit to the head, and a bulk of a body fell swiftly to the floor.


	5. Chapter 5

_After the cliffhanger as it were, I decided to put this chapter up quite close to the one before to clear up any confusion. I like writing this story, as it's already pre-written in a notepad, so really I copy it up, and make a few minor edits. Enjoy!_

Voss turned around after hearing an almighty thud as something hit the ground immediately behind him. It was a man, small and skinny from malnutrition. His head was oversized, balancing on a precariously sinewy neck, and his hair matted and grey with neglect.

Behind the old man who lay slumped on the floor, stood another with a club gripped tightly in his hand. The old man showed no signs of getting up now, or ever, and the younger man looked pleased at this.

"You're not safe here officer. Run."

Voss opened his mouth to interrupt, but the man only raised his club. On realising that the situations odds did not stand in his favour, Voss obeyed the man and ran to the palace. The man shook his head, shaggy brown hair in clumps flying as he did so. The body that lay on the floor was dragged to the side of the street, and stripped of his pendant.

Admiral Thrawn sat in a gold gilded room with General Maedi, their conversation spoken entirely through Sy Bisti, with small trinkets of Razaiin ale constantly being refilled by attendants on hand.

"Admiral Thrawn, your men are not accustomed to my culture. Your Captain especially, sees us as frivolous beings not worth his time…"

The Admiral's lips twitched. "You yourself must understand that by saying this, you undermine his own culture, this is to be realised of course."

General Maedi nodded her head slowly, her eyes never leaving what she presumed to be the Admiral's pupils.

Smirking she replied, "I suppose you are right. But then, I am not the guest."

The Admiral tipped his head towards her. "You are of course entitled to that opinion, and in your own way very right. But then, you did not invite me here to discuss Captain Niriz and his curbed enthusiasm when it comes to Palace life. I would appreciate the topic matter you intended to speak of to be dealt with immediately."

General Maedi was taken aback, promptly placing her trinket glass on the table, swilling what little alcohol there was in it on the mat. She widened her brown eyes and tipped her head back a little.

"You are right, if very forward."

The Admiral nodded, waiting for her to resume talking and deal with the matter.

"I have indeed asked you here to discuss some… Trouble, my men have been dealing with."

Admiral Thrawn picked up his trinket of drink and sipped it slowly as General Maedi collected her thoughts. She stood up and looked out of the window, beyond the palace wall was the bazaar, and that was where her gaze wondered and stayed. She didn't turn to Admiral Thrawn when she next spoke, her gaze fixated purely on the busy marketplace.

"There has been a social furore. There has always been some extent of a gulf seen between the favoured and poor, but my father fritters away all he can on… This."

She turned around, her arms outstretched as she indicated the ornate gilding and craftsmanship that had gone into the tea room. She sighed and resumed her sitting position.

"There has been talk of a revolution, but that's not all. Things have happened. Women daren't walk the streets anymore. You must realise I'm the only working woman on the entirety of this planet…"

Admiral Thrawn nodded. "Your father's opera betrayed a patriarchal society, though even without that spectacle it would not be hard for one to guess that. You are of a high military position as well, and I for one do not believe this is just because you are the Emperor's daughter."

General Maedi smiled a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"I've petitioned for so long for equality. It caused some level of activity amongst the elder men. You're probably aware of the traditional values held amongst our citizens, no doubt the opera told you that as well!"

She laughed this time, pouring more of the viscous liquid into her trinket glass and gulping it quickly.

"My father told me you yourselves were dealing with rebellious peoples within your Empire. I wondered, as one officer to another, would you grant us your mind to help us? We've never dealt with such forces before…"

The Admiral tilted his head back as his nostrils flared slightly. "On one condition purely General."

General Maedi kept stoically still, her features instantly hardening.

"You allow a few of my men in the future to set up a base here, on Raza with no interruptions after this matter is eradicated."

"Of course, I was expecting something far worse…"

She laughed, teasing the Admiral, her mood lightening after the revelation that help would come.

"We will finalise matters shortly, I wish to make it clear that there are some finer details involved in my premise, and would not allow myself to deceive you so forthright."

The Admiral stood up, nodding in respect to the General and swiftly left the room for his own guest quarters. General Maedi sighed and slumped in her seat. She was grateful for the help; the guerrilla's were proving to be more of a nuisance than had at first been anticipated. With the help of such a brilliant mind, and others who worked for it, the Raza Military could maintain order, and General Maedi could attempt to create the utopia she had in mind.


	6. Chapter 6

Running at such a high speed Voss felt his left leg buckle as he misplaced his foot in front of himself.

"Arrgh!"

He grimaced as he felt his muscles burn inside of his leg, he carried on running, afraid to stop and see if anyone else had decided to follow him. He reached the outer walls of the palace, slowing down to a fast walk to gaze upon the decadent statues that adorned the high arching walls and their intricate carvings portraying eras long gone.

He heard movement behind him and turned around rapidly to seek a face to the light footsteps. He breathed a sigh of relief, it was the Emperor's youngest daughter, the Raha Naeline. He smiled at her and raised his hand to gesture she was welcome to walk with him. The girl looked mortified, and ran off into the palace. Voss sighed, he didn't generally have this effect on women, and he was scared to upset the Razaiin people after bearing witness to a death of what he misunderstood to be a threat.

He trudged through the thick gravel that was laid out in a pathway to the Palace, and walked towards his quarters to collect his thoughts and then tell the Admiral of what had happened earlier.

Niriz fumed as he sat with a tankard of the finest ale the Palace had to offer. He looked around him, eyeing the daily life of the palace attendants and their skittering footsteps. It was a hard life for them, it had to be said, but then judging from what he had seen on Raza, they didn't have much choice in the matter.

_This is a revolution waiting to happen..._

He got up quickly, pushing his chair away in an irritated fashion and walked briskly towards his dormitory, only to find Commander Voss Parck looking rather disgruntled and worse for wear.

"You look awful old friend."

Niriz smiled firmly as he clapped the Commander on the back in a friendly masculine way.

"Have you been working too hard now?"

Voss smiled slightly at the teasing, wondering whether it was safe to tell the Captain immediately what had happened, or if it was best kept saved for somewhere a little private, and preferably with an audience involving Admiral Thrawn. He didn't answer as he noticed Dagon furrow his brows.

"I had a question for you, one of extreme importance."

Voss raised his eyebrows in shock. "Why of course, let it be out man!"

Niriz looked around in a sneaky way before speaking. "Last night..." He paused slightly as he arranged a small speech in his head. "I don't remember much of what happened."

Voss laughed heartily, he hadn't been expecting this conversation at all. "I'm not surprised, it seems Razaiin liquor does not wholly agree with you!" Voss noticed the sweat forming on Niriz's forehead and sought to soothe his worst views. "You did nothing to embarrass yourself friend, I made it my civil duty to protect the Razaiin people." He eyed a female attendant that stood waiting by one of the many gilded double doors in a mocking fashion, then turned to Niriz in a more serious fashion.

"You walked to your room a little oddly, that is all there is to say."

Niriz pursed his lips slightly. He was glad that he hadn't embarrassed himself too brazenly in front of his fellow officers, but his drunken stupor didn't quite fit the bill. He had never before been hit by alcohol so harshly, and would have to notify in advance to never drink the liquor placed on tables before him.

"The idea of my drunken stance is most worrying indeed."

Niriz laughed lightly to break his endless worrying that bounded around his head.

Voss noted the worried glint in Dagon's eye, and clasped him firmly on the shoulder. "You have nothing to worry about, you were not the only one to be affected so harshly."

Niriz nodded slowly, contemplating on this. The door he stood in front of opened harshly, both he and Voss jumping to the other side of the corridor as it did so. General Maedi stood there in all her military finery, the brown uniform complimenting her dark hair and glistening skin. She bowed her head in an apology to Voss and Dagon and set off down the corridor. Voss noted as Dagon's head turned swiftly to watch her sashay down the corridor, her boots clicking with each step she took. He reflected that it was the finery of her uniform that made her attractive, the fact that behind a plain face, a frenzied but brilliant mind waited to dazzle. He regretted fully his laziness of his school days when it came to languages, he had never expected that his military career would take such a turn, but he didn't regret it one bit.

Dagon coughed as he realised Voss had been stood there whilst he ogled the General. "Very well then, I'll be off now. Planning for the future trip to Coruscant." He inclined his head and headed off to one of the rooms designated to him by the Emperor Sitkh III for meetings.

Voss resorted to searching the Palace for Admiral Thrawn, desperate to tell him of what he fully expected the Admiral had anticipated. He went along the four main corridors of the Palace opening each door he could attempting to locate the Admiral. He was in none of these rooms. Voss sighed and headed off to the Admiral's quarters as a last resort. He knocked on the door and stood up straight as he heard footsteps coming towards him. The door opened, and Admiral Thrawn looked at Commander Parck with a querying stare.

"I had something very important to tell you Sir."

The Admiral opened the door wider, standing by the side to allow Parck into his plush quarters. The chamber was much larger than Parck's own room, with much artwork and velvet covered chaise longues draped in rich fabrics.

"Very well then Commander Parck, please take a seat".


	7. Chapter 7

He sat down in a plush chaise longue, its pillows plumped to perfection, and its silks as soft as the heavens clouds. Voss was slightly wary of telling the Admiral the news of what had nearly been an untimely demise, but he did not doubt the Admiral's intelligence, that was a force to be reckoned with. The Admiral took a few long strides towards a drinks cabinet, and poured two small beakers full of a violet liquid, placing one on a table before Voss and keeping the other firmly within his grip.

"You mentioned important news, Commander?"

Voss nodded slowly, sipping on his fluorescent drink. "You told me earlier this day to bear witness to the scenery of Preeya, and I did just that. On making my way back to the Palace however..."

Voss stopped, collecting his thoughts a little too late midway in his sentence.

"You were attacked, I presume?"

Voss straightened in his seat, his eyes widening that the Admiral could have guessed.

"Why yes Sir... But how did you...?"

The Admiral sat down on a chair adjacent to Parck's chaise longue. "I had my suspicions that internal struggles are the least to worry about on this planet. The slaves are superstitious, superstitions cause unrest... Unrest causes rebellion. Rebellion in turn creates fear."

Voss nodded slowly, not quite understanding what the Admiral was attempting to get to.

"I placed you there with the full intention that you should, as you eloquently put it, bear witness to the capital city of Preeya and her innermost secrets. Do not look so shocked. I made sure, dear friend, that you were perfectly safe."

"The man?"

Admiral Thrawn's lips twitched slightly in the corners betraying a smile a teacher gives to his student. "The man was working for me, and in turn Emperor Sitkh the third."

Voss nodded, it was making sense, bit by bit, as all Thrawn's plans eventually did. He still wasn't sure on the angle the Admiral was taking regarding Raza however.

"Why could you just not tell me, if you already knew?"

Voss queried the Admiral with some distaste, he had known the Admiral would not intentionally let him be harmed, but he had witnessed a man being killed in the very same fashion meant for him.

"Suspicions are not tantamount to evidence, Commander Parck." The Admiral spoke dryly, a dark humour lying underneath his words.

"You needed proof to act on?"

Voss disposed of the rest of his drink down his gullet, and placed the glass firmly on the table in front of him. The Admiral nodded slowly, waiting for Voss to continue speaking.

"What course of action do you intend to take against these rebels Sir?"

Thrawn raised his left eyebrow and smiled a little wider, an arrogant smile, one that made Voss' spine shiver with a slight anticipation that he wasn't going to like what was to be said.

"Commander Parck, we will take no more action than is required. The rebellion on planet is small, and insignificant. Young men who wish to change the tyrranical ruling. They already have their solution, they just need to, bear witness, to it, as it were."

Thrawn smiled as he echoed Parck's own phrasing. Parck too smiled, though he wasn't sure what the Admiral was talking about entirely, he knew the Empire were going to have little much to do with it. This was a pet project for the Admiral, Parck decided, a little game of manipulation and orchestration for the greater good.

"So what shall Captain Niriz and I do, Admiral?"

The Admiral stood up to go get the remainder of the violet liquid in it's clear decanter. He turned his head around, craning it to face Parck as he reached for the decanter.

"You have played your roles superbly, continue as per usual and I shall deal with what needs to be done."

Voss looked puzzled, and the Admiral poured more drink for him than he did for himself. "This should ease any inhibitions Commander Parck. Whilst in my liege, my men are never intentionally harmed, so do not fear. I consider you one of few friends, it would pain me for you to go, in any circumstance."

In a rare heartfelt moment, the Admiral had struck a chord with Parck. This game the Admiral was playing was murkier than could ever be thought. Here, right now, this tactical, brilliant mind considered him a friend. And for that, Voss Parck was both very glad and grateful.

"And so will you be forcing Raza to join the Empire?"

Voss leant forward after his question, with the eagerness of a pupil, desperate for the Admiral to say that he was indeed making a dealership for Raza to join the Empire, as were all the officers who served under the Admonitor.

Thrawn shook his head, and at this Voss looked openly dissapointed.

"I have not had to force anyone, Emperor Sitkh the third and his daughter, General Maedi, are both honoured to be even be thought of in such high regards, as were their words. The Empire shall see a most potent ally in Raza, they are self sufficient and produce copious amounts of spice melange. On joining the Empire, their economy should blossom, and they shall reap all the rewards given to them."

Voss blossomed a smile, a tooth filled one with dimpled cheeks. He loved his job, it bought him much happiness, even if on the surface the Imperial Court thought him doomed, he simply lived for serving Admiral Thrawn, there seemed to be no better man to serve under.

The Admiral stood up sharply. "You have a meeting with General Maedi in two hours, she is most impressed with your... Skill at sign language."

Voss blushed ever so slightly at his incompetence with foreign languages, and the Admiral shook his head with a slight smile as he walked over to open the door for Voss.


	8. Chapter 8

General Maedi sat reading lores of ages gone by. She sighed rather loudly, after reading 10 manuscripts there seemed to be a recurring theme, the downtrodden woman who does as she is told. But her father, the Emperor Sitkh III had changed this, and made her General after her brothers death. The Upper Classes of Raza had caused a furore over this, and as a result, the Lower Castes rejoiced. She was now a symbol of the people, and all because her father and his grievances had clouded over his mind.

She strolled over to the balcony adjoining her room to listen to the avian tunes that caressed her ears gently like a lullaby. _His clouded judgement gained me notoriety. My fame is nothing more than a lore. _She looked over to the scraps of paper and leather bound books that were strewn carelessly across her desk. _But the Muses, the Divines, they shine down on me. They grant me these small victories in warfare when I do not know how I do it. I am protected._

She looked at her watch, noting that both the aliens, Commander Parck and Captain Niriz would shortly be joining her. She'd grown quite affectionate to the Commander in particular, his fumbling ways of politesse amused her greatly, and he always seemed to be apologising for his lack of knowledge regarding the trade languages. The Captain always seemed to be constantly irritated, and for this she did not entirely blame him. Were she to be on an alien landscape, with an alien culture and language, not knowing what the other were saying, she too would be most angry.

A knocking on her door signalled that the two men had arrived, ten minutes earlier than scheduled. She opened the door and nodded to each of them, they both stepped aside leaving room for her to make her way out into the corridor.

"Sae hee lo'kirat gha?"

She motioned towards the Palace Barracks, her hands waving in the air as she asked them in her own language if they would follow her. Of course, they hadn't understood, and she no longer bothered with Sy Bisti, resorting to her own language, as she knew neither of the men could tell the difference, she had tried intermingling the two languages for shock value.

"Where is she taking us?"

Niriz was uptight, he'd heard the embellished rumours of Voss' near death and had been in a frenzy when he found out the Admiral had something to do with it. He didn't doubt Admiral Thrawn, not since the near mutiny, but he couldn't help but feel that even here, the Admiral could be well out of his depth. They had been here no longer than a standard week, and no one could claim to know a cultures working in such a short amount of time.

Voss looked around to check where they were headed. "I think she is taking us to either the armoury or the barracks, we just passed the first servants quarters on the east side."

Niriz looked to Voss and rolled his eyes. He hadn't bothered learning the Palace's architecture, for he knew that they would be off soon. The Admiral had proposed to the Emperor that the Admonitor and her crew would leave in the next 3 days, and Niriz had been the one finalising the routes to avoid piracy and meteorite paths. His team had gone through 5 supervised drafts, and they would have to travel within the next week or so if the drafts were to stay valid.

"I have no idea how you do that." Niriz looked to Voss in a querying manner as he said this, his head shaking in a mocking fashion.

Voss laughed lightly, "I've always had a keen eye for directions and architecture."

General Maedi sashayed down the hall at a quicker pace to the two men, her hips swaying like a metronome. Both Niriz and Parck were walking in long and fast strides, their breaths becoming short as the walk tired them both. Abruptly, the General stopped in front of the Palace Barracks, home to the Warriors of Muse.

"Daei si'la harfu ghupti sae urp."

She opened one ornate carved door for the men to walk through, nodded her head to encourage them. Niriz entered first, slowly and tentatively, and Voss secondly, as one would enter a door normally. Lastly, the General closed the door behind her and walked over to an archway that led to a private outside training ground, where a thousand men stood in smart navy dress uniforms.

"Warrioor."

She spoke slowly, pointing to the men who stood there, weapons in hand. Voss walked closer, standing a few steps in front of the General. Obviously, Thrawn had taught her Basic words in an effort to show both Parck and Niriz just how useful as allies Raza could be. Of course, Thrawn was never a simple individual, he had plans so complex, that several human minds had to be allied to the cause of deciphering them. His alien workings went further than physiologically, Voss was sure of that. Beneath that cool blue exude, was an equally as cool brain, placid and sure.

"Look at these men Voss. Ready for battle, professional and unflinching..."

Niriz looked onwards in awe and fascination, akin to a youth witnessing his first magic show. "If allied to our cause and vision, these men could be heroes."

Voss nodded, assuming a military stance, with his hands clasped firmly behind his back. "That is true, should the Admiral wish that the case, then so it will be. Razaiin citizens have been most cooperative, we can only hope they will extend the pleasantries by fully integrating into the Empire."

Voss knew that of course they were due to enter the Empire, as the Admiral had said, but had sworn not to let any man know of the conversation they had shared earlier. Something irked Parck in the back of his head, there were only a thousand soldiers here, surely there had to be more, especially in the Capital City. He motioned his hands to General Maedi, insinuating he hoped, that he wished there were more.

"Ka!"

She looked pleased at him, a wide smile on a plain face, extending her arm to beyond another building, where, when Voss looked closely, he could see men, and children, being trained.

This was an army bred for fighting.


	9. Chapter 9

Admiral Thrawn sat at a large wooden table, with a small trinket placed in front of him, in the typical Razain style favoured by the fashionable. It was a gold plated necklace, with various beads hanging off it, and a centrepiece made from the shell of the Yoapicaan, a reptilian like creature that boasted a shell of blue and green sheer luminance, that sparkled in the sunlight with various other colourings.

His red eyes glowed intensely as he meditated over the subject placed in front of him, his brow furrowing somewhat in a meditative stance.

The necklace was truly marvellous, and no other warlord would be able to formulate a plan based on this necklace and the furnishings that surrounded him.

No other warlord was quite like the Admiral, however, and so this wasn't to be expected.

Rippling muscles strained under the pressure they were tested with. Men grunted as more weights were added to the baskets they struggled to carry. These trainees were skillfull, that much was apparent even to someone not put through the everyday stresses of military life.

Commander Parck and Captain Niriz looked on in awe and wonderment. They wanted to walk up to the men, see they were real and not just a mass of droids doing their master's bidding, but both their fear and slight excitement stopped them from doing as they would have liked.

"There are boys as young as five training here."

Niriz pointed to a young boy carrying a sack of unwashed linen. It reminded him of tales gone by, when his mother had read him bedtime stories of Knights and their Padawans, forever striving for the penultimate perfection within an imperfect Galaxy.

"They train them young, that way, they know of no other life they can substitute this for."

Voss nodded as Niriz finished off his thoughts on the training grounds. This explained why the streets seemed so void of life, a lot of it was here. It still didn't explain the absence of women, nor the pendants, but gradually everything was becoming slightly clearer to him.

"It seems that a great proportion of Raza's males go into this training camp."

Niriz nodded as Voss spoke, wondering what angle the Commander was currently clinched on.

"When I was in the city today, before..." He gulped slightly remembering the incident that had happened before his eyes, the threat he had been given to stay away. "There were no women in the town, not a single one to be seen. I must say it is the strangest sight I have ever had the misfortune of beholding, but I wonder... Does this army, this training facility... Have anything to do with it?"

He looked around him, his arms outstretched to illustrate his point concisely to the Captain. Niriz nodded slowly, his chin gathering skin where he held his head close to his neck.

"You think the women are outraged at this facility? Perhaps, assuming a silent protest?"

Voss shook his head in a quick excitable manner. "No, that wasn't the feeling I had garnered from the scene. It was almost sinister, though I must admit, the entire city had that feeling of the Coruscanti dregs..."

Niriz chuckled at the comment as he let his gaze wander over the trained specimens that worked before him.

"Well then, I can only assume the Admiral has this noted, and at this very moment in time has devised a strategy in which to aid us..."

Voss laughed at Dagon's slight sarcastic tone, sighing slightly as his top lip began to curl at the edges.

"You realise, don't you Dagon, that at this moment in time we're chess pieces on the board that is Raza? The Admiral knows exactly what it is we must do, and he'll orchestrate us thus, we must do all that is expected of us, and then, and only then, can we truly expect to be safe."

Dagon nodded, he wasn't looking Voss in the eyes, his gaze was firmly fixated on a group of young boys training in a form of martial arts. They were all so connected, so fluent in their movements, even he could appreciate the effort that went into such fluency.

"I wouldn't expect any less from the Admiral." He turned now, looking Voss squarely in the eye. "I presume, in his own way, he is protecting us. I for one am completely unaware of any grandiose political mishaps, bar the blatantly obvious incompetence of the Emperor Sitkh."

There was a slight pause, in which Voss was unsure of what to say, thankfully, Niriz wasn't quite done speaking.

"Gold toilet coverings are most impractical for every day use."

The two men laughed, and General Maedi looked somewhat annoyed that she could not understand the joke that was shared between them.

**Slightly tired, so there may be a few errors here and there, I apologise for this and I'll look over it sometime soon. **

**Thankyou all for reviewing, I appreciate it immensely, and it really does help me get these chapters up sooner, because it gives me something to strive for, so thankyou, thankyou, thankyou!**


	10. Chapter 10

Captain Niriz and Commander Parck walked side by side down the gold ornated halls on the east side of the Palace, making their way back from seeing the privately trained mesomorph figures that had stunned their very eyes some minutes earlier. General Maedi had nodded to the men, a sign of respect to show that she would not be joining them on their way to the main dining hall. It was roughly lunch time, though every hour the divines sent was worthy of a meal in the eyes of the Razaiin citizens.

"I shall have to find out how they make those pocketed meat pouches. They seem rather simple to make, and I daresay, back in the day, I was a mean cook with skills to rival Jabahri."

Commander Parck smiled at Niriz's comment on the famous Coruscanti cook, Jabahri- a man whose tongue was said to defy all taste that glided over his tastebuds.

Voss looked at Niriz, smiling a little wider,"I can believe that, which is astonishingly worrying."

The two men laughed, their friendship was comfortable, and they had established the sort of kinsmanship that resulted in them acting more like siblings than two officers of differing ranks. Of course, when duty called for it, they would resume their roles and act to the best of their ability, but when on comfortable outings such as this trip to Raza, their friendship could only blossom, with the humour between them being oft.

They arrived at the dining hall some ten minutes later. It was sparsely filled, with the odd group of juniour officers dotted around the room in clumps. The Emperor of Raza had placed long wooden tables taking up much of the room in the hall, with long benches to match.

Captain Niriz and Commander Parck, being high ranking officers, were expected to eat on the main table, one that was placed horizontally across the room, allowing them to overlook the rest of the activity that went on in the room.

Today, there was a variety of meals being served, from the sweet tingling sensation of the Gerup berry, to the bitter aftertaste of Jurti, a casserole like dish that Captain Niriz had developed a taste for.

The two men sat with their meals, eating them with a contented smirk as their eyes scoured the halls. Parck noted that the Admiral had spent the bulk of his time in Raza within the confines of his room, no doubt he was somehow analysing the architecture, in his minds eye evaluating the species as well.

General Maedi was busy concentrating on reading a letter that had arrived to her via hand. The script was cursive, meaning that the letter had been pre-meditated for some time, with the carefully inked slashes and dots that made up the established language of Raza.

_My dear,_

_Your promotion was long overdue, and I heartily congratulate you for aiming so high. The people love you, and you must know this to be true. In fact, some men have been blinded by your scorching ambition, proclaiming you to be the next H'uarrah. _

_You are human, like the rest of us. Though, unlike the rest of us sorry souls, you have the ability to change the system, and give us freedom from tyranny._

_I have no doubts in my mind that you still love your father, but should you have seen the things my eyes have seen, you would not be so quick to rise to his defence. _

_Enclosed, you will find a pendant. A symbol of the people, your symbol. _

_We do not appreciate these Naval types your father has worked so hard to impress, and we wish to strike a bargain:_

_They shall stay safe, if you are to rule. We have no doubts that under your rule we shall flourish._

_I look forward to seeing the pendant around your beautiful neck,_

_El Raha Naheeb, H'uarrah,_

_The People and I_

Maedi shuddered, she had known that her military role meant she had a lot of power, but never in all her days had she suspected that she would result in becoming such a beacon of light for her own people.

And everything the letter said was right.

Her father, as much as she loved him, was a cruel beast at times, flogging and executing the "indispensables" as he called them, at his whim and leisure. Her mother had died at this expense when he had grown bored of her and found amusement in his harem.

Maedi wondered how long he would keep her and her sisters alive for, especially after the grief strickening death of her brother, the late General Harja.

She thumbed the letter, taking in it's perfume lightly through her nostrils. There was a faint smell of musky perfume, the type that emanated from street lanterns as they were to be lit. She searched her mind, hoping to find the composer of this letter, though she knew that she would never know the author of it, it was impossible for her to know all of the world's citizens, even if she was proclaimed to be the legendary H'uarrah.

Stuffing the letter into her jacket pocket, Maedi sat there furrowing her brow, wondering whether it was wise to show the Admiral this, after all, she had asked for his help earlier.

She swore viciously under her breath.

The people did not appreciate them, meaning their lives were endangered. But surely, showing this letter to the Admiral could help her find the safest route to disposing of her father, or at the very least diminish any threats directly pointed towards her family.

She sighed, it was times like this that she cursed the Divines for making her the eldest daughter, the responsible one. She longed to be pretty and carefree like her other sisters, to dance in the moonlight with the Razaiin officers, and to girlishly giggle when one bowed to her.

No man ever did this to her, however. She was the plain one, the legendary one.

The one that was about to cause the biggest revolution Raza had ever seen.


	11. Chapter 11

"So you intend to do nothing sir?"

Niriz was silently fuming, he trusted the Admiral, this much was certain, but after the pleading from General Maedi in front of himself, the Admiral and Commander Parck, he wasn't quite sure he was willing to sit idly and watch.

The Admiral was still staring out of a window. He spoke plainly, without an accent, an emotionless statue to the rest of the world.

"Yes Captain, it seems for now to be the best plan."

Niriz snorted slightly. "Sir, all due respect, but there are assassinations planned, these 'people', they don't want us here, and you want us to stay longer? My men and I devised safe routes back to Coruscant, there's not a lot of time left before we shall have to do so again!"

Parck placed his arm on Dagon's shoulder as a sign that constant rabbiting would only hinder the process and infuriate the Admiral. Niriz looked to the ground, to his finely polished boots, and then back up to the Admiral with a look of steely determination.

"If this is what you think is best for the Empire, then I will stay. Not very willingly, but for now, out of loyalty, I shall stay. I only hope you are right."

Voss flashed a knowing smile to Dagon, nodding his head slowly up and down in approval.

"I am rarely wrong Captain Niriz, and when I am, I accept my own mistakes."

The Admiral turned around slowly as he talked, a knowing benign smile on his face as he did so. Niriz straightened slightly, Admiral Thrawn was an imposing figure at the best of times, and today was a running contestant for the worst of times. It wasn't that Niriz didn't trust the Admiral, he did, very much. It was these Razaiin people and their strange culture, the rituals they underwent, and lastly but by no means the littlest problem- "The People". It sounded so much like a cult, a cult that happened to hate outsiders. Niriz was unsure of whether "The People" referred to the underdog lower classes, or just a group of people intent on social havoc. Either way, with a rebellion on their hands already in the central galaxy, one on a confined world was not going to be pretty.

"If I may Sir?"

Commander Parck took the letter that General Maedi had left on the small shin sized table. The Admiral nodded his head once and Parck went to pick the letter up.

He looked carefully at the writing style, and then lastly smelt the heavy perfume from the letter.

"Did General Maedi mention the script style at all, or the perfume used?"

Voss handed the letter to Niriz to also have a look at the letter, neither of them being able to read the script itself, but make a hearty guess as to what the Admiral had translated from General Maedi speaking it out in Sy Bisti.

"She did not, I am afraid. We know what she told us through Sy Bisti."

Niriz stiffened, the muscles of his back contorting. "Then she might have lied to you?"

Thrawn cast his eyes down at the letter in Niriz's hands. "Yes, she may well have lied to me."

Niriz nodded slowly, his eyes fixed on the cursive calligraphy. "The smell is familiar, but I don't know where from." He sniffed loudly this time in the hope that a larger inhalation of the perfume might help jog his memory.

"It is the perfumed gas used in the street lanterns. It is also used in ritualistic ceremonies to ward off dark spirits."

Thrawn spoke as if he had known this was coming for a long time, he continued before Niriz and Parck could question him further.

"The script is cursive, and the trail of ink suggests the words were copied neatly and slowly, meaning another copy must lie somewhere. This has been pre-meditated, and is obviously a letter the author has been thinking of for sometime. An impeccable presentation, complete with the perfumed smell of the musky Higarti flower, leads me to believe that the person who wrote this letter is somewhat educated, presumably religious, and may well be residing in a church this very minute."

Parck and Niriz stared at the letter, Niriz traced the sprawling letters with his finger, in the vain attempt that this should better his understanding. Parck looked up from the letter.

"You attained this from just the letter?"

His left eyebrow cocked slightly in defiance, though in truth he did not doubt the Admiral's ability. Thrawn smiled coolly, and replied with a simple answer, "Why it is elementary, Commander Parck."

With his hands clasped behind his back, Admiral Thrawn walked towards Parck and Niriz, and held his hand open to receive the letter. Niriz placed it in his hand and cleared his throat, but did not follow the noise with any speech. Thrawn looked at the letter again, a few fleeting glances directed out of the window.

"I am almost certain that the author is a learned man from the Church. That does not narrow down the choices however, there is many a church initiate. As I gather from my conversations with General Maedi, Raza is a spiritual and religious planet, their priests are men of high status who enjoy such frivolities they ought not to. I believe the man of this letter to be a priest, one who knows the lower classes and fights for them in secret. He is to be admired, if it were not for the fact that he has threatened us, I might actually have thought something good of him. As he stands, he is a potential threat, and we must be vigilant to this, even if for now, we lie idle."

Niriz's eyes widened, it all made so much sense to him now. The Admiral wanted change to happen, but under another ruler. He wasn't quite sure why, but he knew the Admiral would have his reasons, Niriz would just have to wait a few days until he managed to see the simplicity of the actions they had all taken.

"So I presume then, that we are staying a little longer, and that I can tell my men not to worry about plans for Coruscant just yet?"

The Admiral smiled, "Tell them to enjoy themselves, Captain. We may be here for a while yet."

**Well, I'm off on holiday for a week tomorrow, so I hope this tides the few who read this!**

**-Rhi **(**DanceBoheme)**


	12. Chapter 12

"We fight at dusk!"

Footsteps plodded heavily on the sandy arena of an ancient training ground, weighted by the ornamental armoury that proclaimed decadence and opulence, when it should have perhaps more appropriately decreed efficiency.

The man who spoke was muscular and well boned, his biceps bulging under the strain he put them under. He was tanned from days played out under the sunlight, with premature wrinkling marring his face. His hawk like eyes looked onto the other soldiers, their uniforms plainer and lighter than his own, without the military finery.

"They shall know their new enemy!"

He raised a spear in his left hand, an outdated tradition kept on as a reminder of days when lasguns were not around, and jabbed it ferociously through the air.

"And by knowing their enemy, they shall know DEATH!"

The crowd of men cheered and whooped, stomping on the ground in appreciation.

Faces of cheering men turned to ones screaming in agony as molten liquids burned and ebbed their skin away from their bodies. Burning meat filled the nostrils of the dreamer, and he awoke in a sweaty state, his pupils dilated with pure fear.

"My Lords... Forgive us."

The man removed himself from his bed that lay in the far corner of the Spartan room, a testament of the selfless nature the man held so dear to himself. He stumbled over to a desk lamp that lay idly on a crudely made table, and fiddled with the Higarti oil and matches to strike a perfectly lit flame in the lamp. On his desk lay a quill and some ink, he was a learned man, one who copied out old manuscripts, as was plainly seen by the books that balanced precariously next to the whipping flame of the lamp.

The old man's dreams had never seemed so alive, so passionate. It had not been since his letter to General Maedi that he had dreamt such visions of the past, of his own life before the religious service he had undertook.

He had sworn to the late Empress Majia that he would protect her children, and had already failed with one of their lives. He would not allow Maedi to die, but she needed careful steering, and would not do what she thought to be someone else's ruling. She was stubborn, as her mother before her, and the old man feared that this personality would not bode so well with the current Emperor, whom most detested as it were.

Cracking his knuckles, the old man composed poetry and songs, odes to the H'uarrah, the legendary leader to bring Raza out of the darkness.

There had been many a fake H'uarrah, but the people loved a messiah and a good tale of gore and debauchery to be passed onto future generations in a sordid account.

**Maedi:**

_Oh, wallflower_

_You look so meek_

_But behind thy complacent features_

_The furious prophecy does lie_

The curling script that flowed from the old man's trembling hand should not have been so effortlessly smooth as it was, but his art was one of perfection, and his tightly controlled hand did the job perfectly. He had devised many of these calligraphic works of art to be shown and read out to the people at large, and Maedi's followers were growing in number by the day. The old man chuckled as he read the short song back to himself, it was meant for a chanting at the secret sermons. Were Maedi to be tricked into ruling, the song could be used as an example of the older days of Maedi's history, when she was foolish and meek, and easily controlled. The man mused that his game was cruel on the young girl, that he was just like her father in a way, taking advantage of a sweet nature. But she would soon learn how to deal with life and the obstacles thrown at her, and she would help control the economy and people, unlike her father before her.

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Commander Voss Parck dined on the head table by himself as Captain Niriz talked to his select group of men that the stay on planet would be marginally longer than expected. Voss was glad that he was not there for that particular talk, as he could imagine in his head crystal clear the snide glances and mutterings that would come about as a result to the declaration.

Instead, he ate his stew and bread bits and watched life go on around him in the Great Hall. Attendants waited on hand to the Emperor's daughters, the Raha, or Princesses, who to Voss seemed far too churlish to be young ladies. He had witnessed on one occasion, that one of the prettier younger daughter's had thrown her meal at an attendant when it had scolded her mouth. It was odd that General Maedi was so patient and kind in comparison, plainer looking in comparison, but far more attractive on the whole.

The Raha Naeline, the Emperor's youngest daughter, strode into the Great Hall, flanked by two plainer looking attendants in robes of silvery grey, complimenting her own outfit of a shimmering blue gown with an attached cowl that framed her oval face neatly and generously. The young girl seemed bored at the affair of eating with her other sisters, and Voss noted that she was the only girl to smile at the attendants when they offered her food. The young Raha stared in a fixated fashioning at the plate before her, not bothering to pick up the elaborate cutlery placed before her. One of her attendants in a silver grey gown bent down to whisper into her ear, and she turned around, her eyes locking on with Voss' own. He smiled at her and bowed his head to her, she beamed and blushed, bowing her own head to him, then turning and picking up a small cup in which she poured some steamed tea.

Voss smiled inanely to himself, so there were two princesses who seemed to be overly charming. It was strange then, that General Maedi should be the only daughter to be targeted by a letter that proclaimed her to be a messiah or prophet of sorts. After finishing his hot stew, Parck stood up and waved a free attendant to clear his plates. He took long and fast strides out of the Great Hall on his lean, muscular legs and headed for the Admiral's quarters. It was time he discussed matters further with the Admiral, he had always sorely hated playing devils advocate in some of Thrawn's scheming when he had next to no idea on the situation at hand. His strides took him to the Admiral's door quicker than he had at first anticipated, and he clenched his flat gut in his right hand as it gurgled in a quiet protest at such strenuous exercise after such a large meal.

He knocked in fast taps on the door and stood on the outside of the room, patiently waiting with his hands clasped together behind his back in an "at ease" position.

The door opened some seconds later, and the Admiral stood there, smirking ever so slightly at the stern face that greeted him.

"So soon Commander? I had expected you to come some hours later, but that does not matter now. Do come in, I suspect you wish to talk over matters further?"

Voss nodded, his features turning slightly dazed at the fact that Admiral Thrawn always seemed to guess what others were thinking, or thereabouts.

"I do indeed Admiral. Do you not think it wise to perhaps conduct a search for the author of that letter? You did mention they were a threat..."

The Admiral smiled benignly as he motioned Voss to sit.

"An empty threat for the moment Commander. Tea?"

Thrawn's left hand lay out flat to a small brewing kettle that seemed as if it were always brewing constantly, as if on standby for the moment when its owner felt the need for a hot refreshing drink.

Voss shook his head and laughed a little. "No thankyou Sir, my gut is already protesting about my march to your quarters, I think it's wise if I give it a slight whilst we talk."

The Admiral nodded and sat down on an uncomfortable looking chair that was straight and hard.

"Admiral Thrawn, I realise this sounds somewhat impudent of me, but the men are not happy about our lengthened stay, I can see this. Perhaps they would feel reassured if we were to take some sort of action? However small, it might help them feel needed here on Raza."

The Admiral nodded silently, as if contemplating what Voss said, then answered, "We are taking action, Commander Parck. Silent action that does not need fanfares and announcements, and as such, is deadly and precise action. They will see the results soon, but for the meanwhile shall have to be patient."

"Results?"

Parck leaned forward to hear the Admiral's forthcoming answer and licked the corners of his lips in anticipation. Thrawn, yet again let the corners of his mouth contort into a smile of sorts, his red eyes widening ever so slightly as the fiery orbs shone bright in a menacing way.

"Results, Commander."

**Well, here is Chapter 12 after a very lovely holiday! Thankyou again for the reviews, and I'll get about to replying to those later on tonight (31st July!) as I just got back yesterday!**

**Again, thankyou to my reviewers, you actually give me something to continue for!**

**-Rhi (DanceBoheme)**


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